


Rare

by beastieboys



Series: What Regular People Do [6]
Category: Life Is Strange (Video Game)
Genre: Angst, Blue Balls, Bottom Nathan, M/M, for a lack of a better term, my own private idaho - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-04
Updated: 2016-01-04
Packaged: 2018-05-11 20:04:42
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,847
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5640226
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/beastieboys/pseuds/beastieboys
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Nathan calls Warren during a bout of self-loathing.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Rare

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you everyone who read and commented on my last fic! Every notification means so much to me and really helps me keep writing this series. Whenever I get stuck, I find inspiration within what you say! Thanks as always to [Kingsly](http://kingsly.biz) who is my lovely editor! He does more for me than I could ever ask for!! This fic's movie is not actually foreign, it's My Own Private Idaho starring Keanu Reeves and River Pheonix! If you haven't seen it, [I recommend it!](http://putlocker.plus/my-own-private-idaho-1991-full-movie-putlocker-megashare9.html) So, enjoy!

The blinds in Nathan's room are open for once, and that's only because the sky is darker than his room. Rain patters against the windows.

Nathan lies in bed, his arms covering his head as he rocks back and forth.  _ He's shit, he's shit. How can he let Jefferson take advantage of him like that? Why does he look up to a man who killed someone? _

_ You killed her, dumbass,  _ Nathan's mind echoes.

"No, I didn't, he just -- he wants me to think, that's gotta be it, he's, he's manipulating me." he whispers to himself. His voice sounds hoarse against the humid silence in his room. It makes him feel alone,  _ empty. _

Nathan screams at the top of his lungs, tears forming again. He rubs them away with rough hands, cringing when they burn against his eyelids. He can feel the ghosts of his hands on them for minutes afterward. He kicks at his sheets to uncover his feet because he's too hot, but he can't take his sweatshirt off, he  _ can't,  _ because then he'll see his fucking  _ ugly  _ stomach and the healing scratches and he'll think of Jefferson again and how he--

_ "Oh God, oh God!"  _ Nathan whimpers, his lip quivering, making him feel like a baby.  _ A fucking dumbass spoiled brat baby. _

"You gotta do something," Nathan whispers to himself, "You gotta, you gotta..."

He quiets down, save for a sniffle to keep his pathetic snot in his nose, and glances across the room at his phone on the floor from where he threw it at the wall. Nathan reaches for it with a shaking hand, but of course, he can't reach it because it's  _ across the entire fucking room, fucktard. _

Nathan inhales deeply, grimacing when his stomach expands and stretches the wounds. He reaches one hand to the floor and goes limp, allowing himself to slide onto the floor. The bottom half of him makes a large thump on the deep blue carpet. He slithers to the small table beside his couch where pills lay scattered about. He snatches a handful of them and swallows them dry, coughing. Beside the small table is his phone on the floor, cracked at the top. Nathan looks up at the wall, which has a small dent in it from the force of the phone.  _ Shit on a stick. _

Nathan's chest tightens and he can barely breathe, his eyes are blurring, he's so close, he just has to type in the name and...

"Hello?" Warren's voice is like fresh air and Nathans sobs into the phone.

"Help...me..." Nathan chokes out, tears flowing faster than he can wipe them away. 

"Nathan? Where are you?" Warren asks, and there are a lot of noises from his side of the line.

"My dorm." Nathan hisses, dropping the phone to grab at his hair and pull it, his brain  fuzzy and strained and bleeding, it  _ has _ to be bleeding in there, with all this pressure he's applying to it.

Nathan brings down a hand from his hair and pounds the palm of it against his forehead.

"Fucking shit! You're such a failure!" he screams at himself, tears rolling into his mouth. He licks at his upper lip.

The doorknob turns quickly and Warren is there, bending at Nathan's side, rolling him over to look at him. Warrens fingers stroke along where Nathan was hitting his forehead and Nathan feels prickles of pain. He cringes.

"Breathe, Nate. I'm here." Warren says, his voice shaking but steady enough to give Nathan some sense of sanity in his life.

"I'm--" Nathan doesn't want to bring Warren into this. It's too early, too early.

"Don't you fucking dare try to hide this from me." Warren states, and Nathan's eyes tear up again. He tries to cover his face but Warren holds his hands back.

Nathan cries again, his arms pinned against the floor, his face exposed. He wants to kill himself. Warren takes him under his arms and pulls him off the ground. Nathan is a rag doll. Warren drags him onto his bed and sits him up. He slumps over, limp.

"Please cooperate." Warren sighs.

Warren unbuttons Nathan's varsity jacket and pulls it off of him, followed by his button up shirt. All that's left between his bare torso and Warren is a white undershirt, which Warren grabs the hem of. He can't see what's underneath; it's not allowed, it can't be. Nathan shoves Warren backward.

"Don't fucking touch me, you ape!" Nathan shouts.

Warren's eyes widen and his bottom lip quivers.

"I, Warren--" Nathan holds out his hand but retracts it quickly.

Warren approaches him, each step taking an agonizing amount of time. Nathan's chest inflates and deflates with each rapid breath and he forces himself not to move, not to act like a fucking  _ asshole _ as Warren extends an unreal amount of trust in him.

"Nathan, we have to take the shirt off, okay?" Warren says, kneeling at his feet. Nathan looks away from Warren's eyes.

"I don't wanna." he replies.

"We have to, because there's something you're hiding that you shouldn't be."

Warren has him there. Nathan drags his hands away from himself as his white flag. Warren's smile is full of pity as he stands and pulls Nathan's shirt from his head. Nathan feels empty and bare and  _ naked,  _ absolutely  _ naked.  _ His  _ pants  _ aren't even off.

"Nathan..." Warren says, pulling his head back to look at his entire torso, "When was the last time you ate?"

"When was our date?" Nathan responds, looking back at Warren.

“And where are these from?” Warren asks, tracing his fingers beside each cut, scratch, tear in Nathan’s stomach.

“Me.” Nathan lies. Warren raises his eyes to look at him.

“Are they?”

“Yes.” Nathan growls, and Warren raises his hands in surrender.

“You need to stop doing this to yourself.” Warren says. “If you don’t, when will it end?”

“When there’s a bullet in my brain.” Nathan mumbles.

“I’m sorry?”

Nathan turns his head away and faces the wall with the projected images on them. The images change and it calms him slightly until he remembers that Warren is still crouched at his waist with his hands on Nathan’s stomach. His eyes tear up again.  _ Fucking stupid-ass baby. _

“Get in bed.” Warren orders and Nathan wants to object, but something about the way he said it and the way Warren’s almond eyes are looking up at him makes him slip under his covers.

Warren makes his way over to the computer and exits out of the macabre slideshow.

“What the fuck do you think you’re--”

“Please shut up.” Warren says. 

Natan rolls his eyes and turns to face the door. The covers are suffocating but he forces himself to stay under them,  _ for Warren. _ He hears sounds and turns to face the projection on the wall. His shoulders line with goosebumps in the unnatural state of his nakedness.

“Is this that fucking Idaho movie?” Nathan’s eyebrows scrunch together at the opening of the movie.

“Yes, Nate, it’s  _ My Own Private Idaho _ starring Keanu Reeves and River Phoenix.”

“Fucking bullshit hippy name.” Nathan mumbles.

“I think you can relate to Scott.” Warren says, walking over to the other side of Nathan’s twin bed.

Warren strips down completely, which is meaningless to Nathan because he’s seen him like this so many times. Maybe that’s the point.

“If you couldn’t tell, I’m not really up for some fake-deep shitty gay movie.” Nathan says.

“Yeah? Then what what  _ are  _ you up for?” Warren snaps, making Nathan flinch.

Warren crawls into bed and snuggles up to Nathan, a total one-eighty in attitude.  _ Hot. _

That fucking asshole River guy is on a road somewhere, fucking monologuing. Nathan sighs, letting his eyes flutter.

“No.” Warren says, slapping him on his cheek lightly. Nathan grabs his hand in quick reflex.

“Don’t fucking touch me.” Nathan says. 

Warren pushes himself up out of the bed and walks over to Nathan’s computer. He pauses the movie and sit back down of the bed, his body above the covers,and looks at Nathan.

“It’s time.” Warren says, his voice unnecessarily ominous.

“For?” Nathan replies, sitting up.

“You to tell me everything.”

“What?”

“It’s not my business, I know, but like, it looks like it’s  _ paining  _ you, man. Like, you think I’m someone else, sometimes, even though I’m the only one in the room, and your mood changes so fast, and, and often I can see when you almost say something but  _ don’t _ .”

“And? It doesn’t have anything to do with you.” Nathan says.

“It fucking does!” Warren shouts, pounding his fist on the bed. “You’ve screamed at me when I’ve woken you up before! You told me not to do it again, not to hurt you! I’ve  _ never  _ done anything like that, and I just, I want you to be comfortable with me and I want you to be able to trust me. And I want to stop being so worried about you.” Warren’s voice withers as he speaks.

“I didn’t  _ ask  _ you to worry about me.”

“Remember that night you came in my room at like, three am because you had nightmares?”

Nathan turns his head and looks at his CD player. He blinks a tear out of his eye.

“Fucking forget it. Put Keanu back on the screen.” Nathan says. 

He shifts back down in the bed and huffs, looking at Warren, who backs off. Warren hurries to the computer, probably so Nathan can’t change his mind before he can get there, and presses play on the movie.

Nathan isn’t really watching it, not really; he’s looking past the screen, past the movie, into the void. Warren nudges him out of it.

“Isn’t this movie so great?” Warren asks.

"It's a fucking miracle we're still dating." Nathan replies.

Warren rests his head on Nathan's bare chest, making him jump. He can't remember the last time he let someone touch him so tenderly, it's  _ disgusting.  _ Even his  _ boyfriend  _ can't make him feel good in this aspect. Is there something wrong with him?

Warren tilts his head and kisses Nathan's chest. Nathan flinches, but says nothing and keeps his eyes on the screen. He can't help the fact that his heart is racing because of all the unknown territory in their relationship being discovered and borders being crossed. His  _ fucking stomach  _ is exposed.

But....it feels kind of good when Nathan focuses on the narcoleptic on the screen and forgets  _ where  _ Warren's tongue is,  _ how  _ his hands are placed, and  _ why  _ Nathan's body is tense. If only he were capable of just  _ letting go. _

Warren never bites, not even a couple nips at the skin. Nathan keeps expecting some, for with all the sex they've had in the past, he can't remember the last time it was so gentle. It’s rare. Warren's body blocks the screen suddenly and Nathan is forced to accept the situation in front of him again. Warren looks up at him for a moment, smiles stupidly, and leans back down to suck on a nipple. Nathan rolls his eyes, but truthfully, he's loving the new feelings, possibly because they've been introduced so slowly by someone he trusts.

_ Trust.  _ The word echoes in Nathan's mind, and he puts a hand in Warren's hair, running through the soft mane with his fingers as if to make sure that he is actually real,  _ that all of this is real. _

Nathan blinks out a few tears. Warren scoots lower, trailing kisses down Nathan's stomach, each press causing him to twitch slightly. When Warren comes to the end of the stomach and the beginning of his sweatpants, he tucks his hands under Nathan's ass and makes an attempt to raise him. Nathan catches on and lifts his hips, allowing Warren to pull his pants and underwear off.

Nathan's dick is hard, but it doesn't feel normal. He looks at it as Warren puts his mouth on it and it lacks the usual sexual urgency. He's turned on, of course, but he doesn't want to get it over with. He's not in a hurry. Warren swirls his tongue around the head of Nathan's cock and pulls off.

Warren sits up and pulls a condom and a packet of lube from his pants pocket. Nathan holds out his hand to take it from him.

"Not this time, man." Warren says and pushes himself off the bed.

Warren pulls his clothes off at a relaxed pace. It doesn't seem like a striptease, more like someone getting ready for bed. This makes Nathan question whether or not he's seeing everything in slow motion.

Warren settles back between Nathan's legs. Nathan's eyes widen and he makes to sit up ( _ hell no he's not getting dicked by that geek _ ) but Warren puts a hand on his chest and pushes him back gently. Nathan doesn't have the strength in him to fight back.

"It's alright, babe. It's just me." Warren says, opening the packet of lube.

The crinkling of the packet gives off the reality of the situation: Warren actually plans on sticking his cock in Nathan's ass. He's  _ not  _ a bottom. He's a big, strong --

The first finger touches Nathan's rim and he lets out a ragged breath. Warren raises his eyebrows.

"Yeah?"

"F-fuck off."

Warren smiles warmly and slides the smallest bit of his finger in Nathan's hole, making him tense up all over again.

"You gotta relax." Warren says. "Just look at River."

Nathan sighs and tears his eyes from the spot where Warren's hand has disappeared and glares up at the screen.

"For the record, I prefer Keanu." Nathan mutters.

"You do?"

"Have you seen him in the Matrix? Neo could fuck me anyday."

"But you hesitate with me?" Warren asks and lets his finger go further in.

"Let me know when you save the world from aliens, okay?" Nathan says, hissing at the new pressure.

“But he was bald for like, half the movie...” Warren protests, shaking his hair for emphasis.

“I have a thing for baldies.” Nathan grins and licks his lips when Warren looks up at him. Warren sticks in a second finger, making Nathan gasp. The smug look on Warren’s face is so  _ smackable. _ But Nathan doesn’t dare move. He circles one of his nipples with his index finger and feels as if he is in that stupid movie. Except he’s not a hustler, and  _ thank God  _ he’s not straight, either. 

The third finger is the easiest, probably because Nathan’s eyes have been drooping for a while now ( _ why does Warren have to go so fucking slow? _ ). He knows immediately when it goes in, but it seems more like another tier of an endless amount of fingers filling his ass. Nathan kind of forgets that Warren plans on sticking his cock in there.

“Do you have any more lube? I kinda used all I had trying to loosen you up.” Warren laughs awkwardly, as if this were prom night.

Nathan reaches for the drawer to his right and shifts his hand around in it for a moment before pulling it out, a lube bottle encased in his palm. He tosses it to Warren like they are his keys and not the lube bottle to allow him to go where no man has gone before. 

Warren pours some on the fingers that were just in  _ Nathan’s ass _ and he spreads it around his dick.  _ Here goes. _

River snorts some cocaine and Warren pushes in, blocking Nathan’s view again. It doesn’t matter anyway, considering how tightly Nathan’s eyes shut and how his hands reach up to pull his hair. The pain is dreadfully familiar... 

“Hey, hey, you’re alright. Deep breaths, babe.” Warren says, keeping his dick where it is and reaching out to his boyfriend with an arm.

“Why did I let you do this to me? It’s too soon, it’s too much.” Nathan sobs, deflecting Warren’s touch with a slap on his hand.

“We can stop, this movie is not even a fourth of the way in. We could just watch it.” Warren babbles.

Nathan doesn’t want to look vulnerable, but considering how vulnerable he’s already been and how much more he could get if he gets off on Warren’s dick, he nods his head.

“Please.” he replies, voice weak. 

Warren pulls out and leaves the bed for a moment to wipe his dick off with some tissues.

“I’m s….” Nathan trails.

“I know.” Warren replies, crawling back into bed and snuggling up to Nathan.

Nathan puts an arm around his boyfriend and kisses his head. It’s so tender he may just puke, but it’s well deserved. Warren somehow managed to almost completely unravel every layer Nathan has in a single day. Maybe one day Nathan will let him.

“Isn’t it a shame that River died two years after this movie came out?” Warren asks, sighing. His head is nuzzled into Nathan’s bare shoulder.

“What?”

“Yeah.”

“Damnit, I was gonna invite him over for a threesome.” Nathan says, his voice unwavering until Warren breaks out into a much needed laugh. And as they say, laughter is contagious. 

  
  
  
  
  
  
  


**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading! 
> 
> You can find me on my [lis tumblr](http://prettyboyprescott.tumblr.com) where I post about this fic and Nathan Prescott, among other things! Say hi if you'd like!
> 
> And, as always, comments are greatly appreciated. I love hearing from you!!


End file.
